


Little Game -- DISCONTINUED

by thallo (aurai)



Series: War of Misunderstandings -- Original [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cardtalia, Cardverse, Human Names Used, Multi, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 17:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10417014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurai/pseuds/thallo
Summary: Poor Matthew didn’t know what he was getting into when he followed his brother to England. And now he’s woken up a week after his arrival in a cell? All Matthew wants is to find his brother and get back home, but fate seems to have made other plans.THIS FIC IS DISCONTINUED BECAUSE IT IS BEING REWRITTEN.





	1. Prologue

Matthew shivered in excitement. He couldn't wait to see Alfred. His brother, always the adventurous one, had signed up for a school trip to Europe. Matthew had decided to take a chance and travel to England on his own, leaving the USA/Canada area for the first time in his memory. Alfred’s professor, Mrs. Violet, was very kind and had allowed him to tag along on the trip, as long as he paid for most things, of course.

He glanced down at the maps in his hand. He gripped the strap of his bag in the other hand nervously. His stomach had been aflutter ever since arriving in the airport. He didn't know anyone here, besides his brother (which was a situation that had occurred quite often, unfortunately). And somehow he’d never thought of England as being the first new country he visited. He had always pictured France. Paris sounded exquisite, and it would be quite interesting to visit the country that his own was descended from.

However, he wasn’t in France, he was in England. And his brother was nowhere in sight.  
Matt was sitting in a rented car - so strange, how the steering wheel was different - and looking across the street. He recognized Mrs. Violet, who was surrounded by a haggle of kids and another curvy woman. There was no Alfred.

A motion caught his eye. Alfred stepped off the bus, holding a girl’s hand and pulling her behind him. Matthew scoffed to himself. 

He checked his phone one last time. There was a missed call from Mom blinking on the screen. He dialed the number quickly. When Laura didn’t pick up, he left a message.

“Hey Mom, sorry I missed your call. I’m in England, I’m with Alfred, don’t worry. Call me back later, if you can.”

When Matthew looked back up, Alfred had moved again. It took him a few moments to find his brother. As the other kids grouped up, discussing where to go over maps, Alfred was walking slowly down the street. He wasn’t aimlessly wandering, however. His gaze was fixed on an old church. Matthew didn’t like the look on his face.

Matthew stood and ducked out of the car, checking that his bag remained securely over his shoulder. He set off down the street in pursuit of his brother.

Alfred disappeared inside the church and Matthew ran to catch up. On the door was a sign. One word in particular stood out to him.

DANGER.

Matthew’s heartbeat quickened. Of course Alfred would ignore something as easy as that. Matthew quickly scanned the sign for more. Apparently the church was off limits because of unstable support beams. Matthew blinked. It was rather stupid of the people to keep the door unlocked.

Matthew carefully opened the door, a strange buzz filling his head as he did. As he glanced around, he noticed a thick layer of dust over everything. Or rather, the footprints in the dust. 

He followed them to a small, less ornate wooden door than the ones at the church entrance. The footprints weren’t as clear from there on, but Matthew tried to follow them quickly, wondering how far ahead Alfred could have gotten while he was still outside. When he got to a narrow, steep staircase, he grimaced. Why was Alfred so determined to do these things to him? Matthew’s heart was racing, his cheeks warming.

He got through the staircase as quickly as he could. At the top was a strange room, the walls and floor and ceiling made of stone. On the opposite wall was a set of large, beautiful doors. 

Alfred’s bag was lying in front of them.

Matthew scowled and moved it to the side of the room. He’d get it when the two of them retraced their steps. How careless could his brother be?

Matthew paused before opening the doors, hand hesitating a few inches away. There was something strange about the doors. The buzzing in his head had transformed into ringing, and it was stronger now. The symbols were unlike any Matthew had ever seen.

Clutching his bag tightly, Matthew pushed the solid door open and stepped through.

He barely made it three steps further before his vision blurred. He didn’t have any time to process as his knees buckled and he spilled to the floor.

 

“Ah, mon ami, the sky is turning,” Francis sighed. “Soon the sun will reach the point on the horizon when it lights my castle, and my heart, on fire.”

Gilbert snickered, languidly relaxing next to his friend. “Well don’t count on my for help putting the fire out.”

Francis glared at him half-heartedly. “You have no appreciation for a poet,” he pouted. 

“You mean I have no appreciation for the dramatic tales your face hole spills out,” Gilbert teased. 

“Ah, well.” Francis sighed, laying back in the grass. He watched the sky, pinks and purples and oranges meshing with each other seamlessly. The clouds were golden today.

“Lying like this,” Francis said slowly, dreamily. “It is almost as if we are children again.”

Gilbert chuckled again, but bitterly, softly. “Too much has changed for it to ever feel that way again.”

“Perhaps,” Francis said. He winced slightly as the place in his chest where his heart was began to burn with warmth and nostalgia. The dreaminess suddenly faded from Francis’s eyes. 

“And Antonio isn’t even here.”

“Oui, I have not seen him for so long,” Francis said. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps too much has changed -” He broke off, unable to voice the rest of his thoughts. Francis was now a King. Antonio was a cook in Hearts. And Gilbert…

“Something more is going to change,” Gilbert stated, suddenly, loudly, boldly. “Something will happen soon.”

Francis sat up. Gilbert was now standing, looking out over Diamonds.

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it,” Gilbert said, and the last thing to fade away was his wolfish grin.


	2. One: Captif

When Matthew woke up, it was to a dull pain in the back of his skull and the inability to see anything further than six inches away from him. He winced. The floor beneath him was cold - made of stone. He must still be in that room, then. It was dark. How long had he been there? Where was Alfred? Was anyone looking for him? Probably not. People had the uncanny tendency to completely forget about him sometimes.

Matthew slowly lifted himself up, waiting to see if there was pain anywhere else in his body. A little soreness, and his muscles felt a bit weak. He must still be experiencing effects from hitting his head, then.

Matthew’s hand landed on something. An object. After feeling around it for a moment, he realized what it was. His glasses. He slipped them on gratefully.

He was not in the same room.

There was a very small window, very high up (that wasn’t saying much, the room had a fairly low ceiling). In one corner, there was a stack of a few folded up blankets. On top of those was a metal tray, bowl, and cup. Matthew looked down at himself. His sweatshirt was missing, leaving him in only his tee shirt and jeans.

Instead of a door, there were bars. One entire wall of this room wasn’t a wall at all. They were old and rusted. Matthew crawled over to examine them. He could probably fit through that gap.

Hopefully.

Using a technique learned years before (thanks to Alfred, of course), Matthew lay down on his back and slowly slid his head through the bars. His ears barely fit and he had to remove his glasses before they fell off his face. 

He quickly turned onto his side and continued trying to wiggle through the space. He didn’t fit. He didn’t fit going backwards either.

Matthew sighed, slipped his glasses back onto his face, and resigned himself to his fate.

His thoughts wandered towards the worse while he sat there. Where was he? Why was he there? Why was he in what seemed to be a cell? Where was Alfred? What was going on? Matthew had to force himself not to panic. He should have known not to come to England. Things always worked out for Alfred. He was braver, smarter… okay, maybe not smarter. But he was brave enough to do stupid things and still be able to get out of them unharmed. But Matthew? He always stayed away from these sorts of things.

Matthew sighed. Maybe Alfred was smarter after all. In any case, Matthew still didn’t know how he had gotten there. Or where his bag was. 

His bag!

Matthew tried to jerk upwards before remembering his predicament. The back of his head was starting to throb from resting on the very hard floor.

His phone was in his bag. Was it in this room? He could try to call Alfred! If he hadn’t stupidly gotten his head stuck between two uncomfortably rusty bars. His skin was probably going to burn through from the rough surface if he stayed there too long.

Footsteps echoed through the hall. Matthew flinched, turning his head to look down the hall. A man appeared, stepping up as if there were a staircase there. He held a strange, old-looking lantern. He wore a long green dress coat. In his other hand, he held a drawstring bag.

“Hello?” Matthew called out. The man’s head turned.

“Well,” he said. “I certainly did not expect to see that.”

“Could you help me, please?” Matthew pleaded, the pace of his words picking up with both stress and relief. “I don’t know where I am and I can’t find my brother - I just remember passing out, and now my head hurts and I’m stuck here -”

“Hold on,” the man said. “Do not worry. I can explain to you what has happened.” He shook his head as he approached. “It was not very smart of you to do this.”

Matthew wrinkled his nose. There seemed to be a very strong smell emanating from this man. Perhaps he wore too much cologne? Well, the scent wasn’t entirely unpleasant, simply strong. Matthew refocused his thoughts.

“I didn’t get stuck on purpose,” Matthew said defensively. “I just thought I might be able to get out through here.”

The man kneeled down next to Matthew, placing his lamp and bag down. “These cells are purposefully made so that no one can escape through the bars. Do you think we would be that careless?”

Matthew wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Cells? Like, in a prison? Why am I in a cell?”

“We will get to that,” the man said. “Try to pull your head back inside.”

“Can’t I try to pull my body outside?” Matthew asked hopefully.

“If you did, I would simply unlock the door and place you back in.” he said. 

Matthew frowned. He shifted towards the inside of the cell. As before, his ears got stuck.

Matthew jumped when he felt the man’s hands on either side of his head. Heat flushed through his face. The man ignored him, smoothing his ears to the inside of the bars. Matthew pulled the rest of the way through with a grating pain.

His hands went to his ears. They were a bit wet. Blood.

“They will heal quickly, the wounds are not severe.” the man said. “My name is Roderich Edelstein. I am the Jack of Clubs, and you are here in its dungeon.”

Matthew turned to face him. “The Jack of Clubs? That doesn’t make any sense. Clubs isn’t a place.”

“I can assure you it is, and you are in it.” Roderich answered. He picked up the cloth bag he had brought with him. “Fetch your tray.”

Matthew looked back to the pile of blankets. Slowly, he lifted himself up and walked to it.

“Why should I?” he asked slowly.

“It is only for your own benefit,” Roderich said. “But if you would rather not, feel free to come back here empty handed.”

Matthew picked it up. It was smooth, unlike the bars. He approached Roderich apprehensively.

Roderich pulled something out of his bag. Food. Matthew lifted onto the tips of his feet, leaning forward subconsciously.

“Here,” Roderich said. “This is for you. You must build up your strength.”

Matthew wolfed down the food quickly. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Roderich watched him, face blank.

When Matthew finished, Roderich leaned forward. 

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Matthew,” he responded.

“Why are you here?”

This question confused him. “What? I’ve told you, I don’t know.”

“You are not here as an assassin? To fulfill some evil plot against the King and Queen of Clubs?”

“What?” Matthew gasped. “I would never kill anyone! And I don’t even know what you mean about the King and Queen of Clubs - Clubs isn’t a place!”

Roderich observed him cooly. “If it is not a place, then what is it?”

“It’s a suit of cards! Clubs, Hearts, Diamonds, Spades, they’re all suits in a deck of cards! There’s a King, a Queen, a Jack, an ace, and numbers two through ten. There’s two jokers. There are fifty six cards per deck, I think. Clubs isn’t a place!”

Roderich’s face betrayed nothing as Matthew ranted on. He responded, unaffected, when Matthew had finished.

“I believe you now,” Roderich said. “At least, I think I do. You are not from this world.”

“What?” Matthew asked.

“I will explain,” Roderich answered. “Please, if any questions come up while I am speaking, save them until I am done.

“We are indeed in the country of Clubs, and the four ‘suits’ as you call them are each the name of a country here. In each country, there is a central castle. And in each castle, there is a secret room, hidden very high up. And between these four rooms, one set of doors exists.

“This set of doors is only available in one room at a time. It leads, as far as we know and believe, to another world. Presumably, your world.”

When Roderich didn’t speak for a moment, Matthew did. “So, those doors, that I went through, they brought me here?”

“Yes, as far as I know. We found you unconscious, and, unable to know whether or not you were an intruder, Ivan had you thrown in here. You are the only prisoner at the moment. It is rare that people are held in the Manor.”

“Who’s Ivan?” Matthew asked. 

“The King of Clubs.”

Matthew sat. “And you’re the Jack?”

“Yes. My wife, Elizaveta, is Queen.”

“Hang on. Your wife?” Matthew asked. “I thought that the King and Queen had to be married.”

“It is not necessary,” Roderich said. “The words, King, Queen, Jack, they are simply political titles. Relationships can form any way between the three. In Diamonds, the Queen and her Jack are brother and sister. In both Hearts and Spades, the Queens are male. All it is is a political position.”

Matthew frowned. His head was beginning to hurt from all of this. “So you found me, unconscious? Did you see anyone else?”

Roderich frowned, one of the first times Matthew had seen him express any major emotion. “Should there have been anyone else?”

“No,” Matthew answered, too quickly. Roderich stood, and Matthew scrabbled backwards.

“Tell me,” Roderich demanded. His voice left no room for argument.

“My - my brother,” Matthew admitted. “I was following him. He went through the doors before me.”

“Before you?” Roderich asked. “Did you enter the room separately?”

“Yes.”

“Then he is in one of the other countries.” Roderich said. “I know not which one.”

“I don’t understand how the door works.”

“People rarely come through it,” Roderich said. “But when they do, the doors move. They stay where they are after a person has exited them, and then change position when the next does.”

“So they’re still here!” Matthew exclaimed. “I can go home!”

“Well, yes. However, you will only be able to leave if Ivan allows it.”

“Oh,” Matthew said, slumping back again. “Well I suppose it didn’t matter anyways. I still have to find my pain of a brother before I can leave.”

“Like I said, it may be difficult for you to do so,” Roderich said. “Ivan can be unpredictable, and he may insist that you stay here.”

“But why? I did nothing wrong!” Matthew said indignantly.

Roderich shrugged. “I am not allowed to speak ill of my King,” was all he said, in a light tone.

Matthew got the hint. Roderich was afraid to tell him the full story. Would Ivan punish him if he did?

“Did you find my bag?” he remembered. 

“Yes, Ivan confiscated it. He did mention that if you cooperated, you may receive some of your things back as reward.”

Down the hallway, footsteps echoed. Matthew moved closer to the bars to see.

A young man with shoulder-length brown hair approached them. He bowed respectfully to Roderich. “His Highness Ivan requests your presence,” the man said.

“Thank you, Toris.” Roderich said. He gathered his bag and picked up his lamp. “We will speak more later, Matthew.”

“Bye,” Matthew said. He watched Roderich until he disappeared up the staircase. Then he turned his attention to the guard.

“I’m Matthew,” he offered.

“Toris,” the man responded. “I apologize, I am not allowed to make small talk.”

“Oh.” Matthew said. “Well, that’s alright, I suppose.”

He lay back on the floor. After a moment, he sat back up again.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me how long I’ve been here?”

“I do not know,” the man said. “Not exactly. But probably around a few weeks. Two or three, perhaps -”

“Two or three weeks?” Matthew exclaimed. “Oh my god.” He lay back down, feeling weak.

After a moment, the man spoke. “I am sorry,” he said quietly.

 

Matthew woke up in the middle of the night and promptly threw up. 

The guard standing outside - a new one had come while he was asleep - let out a surprised yelp. 

"Oh, aces," he said. "Are you alright?"

Matthew sat up weakly in the dark. The guard picked up his strange lamp and walked closer. His glasses glinted. 

"I'm fine," he whispered, jaw shaking slightly. I felt a little queasy before I fell asleep."

"I am sorry, I cannot send for someone to clean it until morning," the man apologized. 

"It's fine," Matthew said. He spit to the side, trying to get rid of the nasty aftertaste. "Could you just push your light in here for a moment so I can see where not to step?"

"Of course," he said. Matthew received the lamp. He threw one of his blankets over the mess and moved to the opposite wall with another blanket. 

"Thanks," Matthew said. As the light moved away, Matthew turned over and fell asleep. 

~

He woke again to a soft voice calling his name. 

"Mister, could you get up, please?"

Matthew shifted with a groan. A small boy was at the door. 

"H-hello!" He said. "My name is Raivis, Roderich sent me to see you. He said you were probably sick because you were not used to eating after being unconscious. He told me to bring you food. And this." He took a book out of the bag he was holding. He placed it back in the bag and pulled out a metal key. 

He inserted it into the stone beside the bars and slid it sideways. The door creaked, opening slightly. There must be a bolt that slides into the bars there, Matthew mused. He looked up. The bars were all connected at the top. It seemed that the entire wall was the door. 

Raivis slipped in. "I am to clean this," he said. "Please do not try to kill me while I am in here."

"I'm not a criminal," Matthew said, rubbing his eyes."

"You are in a dungeon," Raivis pointed out. 

"On false charges," Matthew argued. 

"If you say so," Raivis said. Matthew had nothing to say to that.

When Raivis finished, he gave Matthew his food and the book he’d brought. “Roderich wanted me to give this to you,” he said. “So you could learn about our world. You are not from here, are you? The rumors are true. Roderich refuses to speak of it.”

“No, I’m not from here,” Matthew said. “I’m finding it hard to believe that this isn’t just some strange hallucination that’s happening in my mind. But I might as well go along with it, even if it is a hallucination.”

The boy suddenly looked terrified. “I really hope I am not a hallucination,” he whispered. Matthew felt bad. He reached out to correct his mistake, but the boy slipped out of the cell and removed the key, rushing down the hall.

Matthew turned to the book. It was old, with worn guild on the cover. The pages were thick and uneven. He couldn't read the title. 

He opened the cover. 

"A History of the Formation of Cards?" Matthew read. "You couldn't have given me something interesting? Alfred should be reading this."

He read through the first chapter for the rest of the day, often skimming over the same paragraph several times without absorbing anything. He eventually got frustrated and slammed the book shut, shoving it away. It was so hard to grasp the concept that he was actually in another world, and all of the new information he was taking in simply slid out a few moments later. 

Matthew yawned. This book was enough to put him to sleep. ~

 

Despite being quite exhausted, Matthew wasn’t able to get much sleep that night. He tossed and turned on the uncomfortable floor for seemingly forever. When light began entering his cell via the tiny window, he gave up and got up. He ventured over to the window for the first time. He hadn’t tried to look out before.

Matthew was a tall person, but he still had to stand on his toes to see out of the glass. What he saw made him gasp.

He was obviously very high up - more so than he had expected himself to be. Below him was a great valley, covered in what looked to be sunflowers? and surrounded by mountains.

“Enjoying the view?” a voice said behind him. Matthew turned to see Roderich.

“Oh!” Matthew said, stepping down, embarrassed. “Why is your dungeon so high up?”

Roderich smirked slightly. “A rather smart decision, in my opinion. Ivan’s ancestors created this manor. They placed the dungeon at the very top so that if prisoners decided to escape, they would either have to jump to their deaths or find their way down through the castle, where they were likely to get caught. Of course, we hold far less prisoners here now. Most stay in the prison of the other main towns in Clubs.”

“Oh,” Matthew said. 

Roderich turned to him once more. “If you would please come with me, Ivan has requested you receive a gift.”

Matthew creased his brow, confused. “A gift? But why -”

“He wishes you to know what good comes to those who are obedient to his wishes.” Roderich said. “Follow me, please.”

Roderich unlocked the door and Matthew perked up excitedly. "You're letting me out?" He said. 

"Not permanently," Roderich said with a smirk. 

“Then where are we going?” Matthew said, jogging to catch up to the brisk pace Roderich set.  
Roderich didn’t answer until a few moments later, pushing open a door. “In here,” he gestured.

Roderich followed Matthew inside, explaining what the room was as he looked around. “This is the bathhouse for prisoners,” he said. “You can bathe here twice a week, as well as wash your clothing. The water is cold, but in time, that could be changed.”

“So you’re bribing me,” Matthew concluded, a bit sour.

“If that is the way you wish to word it,” was the response. “I have set some of your clothes out, to change into when you leave. Eduard will be waiting for you, to escort you back to your cell.”

Roderich turned on his (admittedly quite polished) heel and exited the room, leaving Matthew in privacy. After a moment of waiting, Matthew softly opened the door. Eduard, the tall man with glasses that had been on guard the night Matthew was sick, smiled and winked at him knowingly. He hadn’t been there but two minutes before. Matthew retreated into the room.

He stripped quickly and slipped under the water. True to Roderich's word, it was cold. He shivered, using the coarse soap there to wash himself as quickly as possible. After he was done, he slipped into his second set of clothes, a sweater and shorts. 

Heirs hair dripped uncomfortably down his back. He wrung it out once, then again, and a third time a few minutes later. Maybe Alfred had had a good idea in keeping his hair short. 

Matthew fingered his hair, curling the locks around his fingers. No, he would not cut his beloved hair off. Not even the annoying curl that stuck out all the time. 

Matthew glanced at the crumpled clothes that lay on the ground. Roderich had mentioned that he had the opportunity to wash his clothes? Matthew wasn't quite sure how to do that by hand. 

He stuck his head out the door again. 

"Are you ready?" Eduard asked. 

"Not quite," Matthew said. "I don't suppose you could help me figure out how to wash my clothes?"

Eduard smiled in a not completely friendly way. "Of course." He walked forward and Matthew retreated into the room. If Eduard was trying to intimidate him, it was working. 

Eduard knelt next to an empty basin with a strange paper covering it, then slid it over to the tub, under a capped slit in the side. He opened the cap, and after a moment water poured out and into the basin. Matthew made a face - did these people wash their clothes in bath water? But Eduard plugged in the little slit and unclipped the paper from the basin, lifting a pile of gunk with it. Matthew understood suddenly. It was a crude, though effective, water filter. 

“Your clothes?” Eduard asked, holding his hand out. Matthew started suddenly and scrambled to get them.

Eduard had opened a cabinet in the wall and pulled out a little packet of some strange substance that he poured into the water. When Matthew returned with the clothes, he put them in the water as well.

“A cleansing herb and spice mix,” he explained to Matthew’s confused face. “We get them imported from Spades, everyone does. Their Jack makes them quite well. If I did not know any better, I would say that he had some magic in his blood.”

“Oh,” Matthew said, unsure of how else to respond. “So you just leave the clothes there?”

“For an hour,” Eduard said. “Then remove the clothes, replace the filter and pour the water back into the tub. It will be drained by one of us later.”

“So I just sit here for an hour?” Matthew questioned.

“Would you rather sit in your cell for an hour?” Eduard asked slyly.

Matthew thought about that. While he was here, his cell had begun to feel like… a safe place. A place that was constant throughout all of the chaos and confusing information.

Not good.

The following hour passed tortuously slowly. What made it worse was the fact that Eduard didn't seem bored or bothered at all. Matthew spent the first ten minutes slowly rummaging through the cabinets, which were mostly filled with that coarse soap, the filter papers for the basin, basins, and towels. Many of the cabinets were empty.

The remaining fifty minutes he spent in various places in the room, counting ceiling tiles or thinking about Alfred and ways to escape. After a while, however, he reasoned that escape was hopeless. He had no idea where Alfred was, no idea where he was, no reference at all to the geography of this land, and not to mention that to escape he’d either have to die or find his way through the entire castle below.

When the hour was up, Eduard knelt next to the basin and removed the clothes, wringing them out. He took two towels from the cabinets. While his back was to Matthew, he briefly considered knocking the man out. Then he remembered that he had no weapon and that he had nowhere to go.

Eduard turned back around and lay the clothes on the towels. “You may keep these in your cell and let them dry,” he said. Matthew accepted the clothes from his hands. “Please follow me, I am to accompany you back to your cell.”

Matthew obediently followed. As they walked back, he took notice of the other cells. They were all empty.

“Am I the only one here?” he asked.

“Yes,” Eduard said. He unlocked Matthew’s door. Matthew entered, trying to balance his clothes. He set them down on the cold floor.

“You are surprisingly obedient,” Eduard remarked. “Even for an omega.”

Matthew looked up curiously. “An omega?”

Eduard smiled, slightly condescending. “What do I smell like to you?”

Matthew frowned. What an odd question to ask. But then again, everyone here seemed to exude a particularly strong smell.  
Matthew let himself focus on the man’s smell - after a time, he had come to ignore them. “Umm… you smell like… like paper, hot paper, you know, when it’s fresh, and ink, I think, umm…”

“Would you like to know what you smell like?” Eduard asked. Matthew didn’t have time to respond before he was speaking again. “Soft. Weak. You smell strongly of an omega.”

“Weak? I’m not weak!” Matthew spluttered in protest. 

“If you came face to face with an alpha, be thankful you have not, you would be quaking in your boots,” Eduard mocked.

“Why are you saying this? I don’t understand what an omega is! Or an alpha!”

Eduard shrugged. “It is not my place to tell you,” he said.

“Eduard!” another voice came, a familiar one, along with a familiar scent. “Toris needs you in the kitchen.”

“Of course he does,” Eduard said courteously. “Thank you for informing me.”

Eduard bowed to Roderich as they exchanged places. Matthew scooted forwards to the bars.

“Why do you have to guard me if you’re the Jack?” Matthew asked.

“Everyone in this manor serves Ivan’s will,” Roderich responded. “What was Eduard speaking to you about? You looked rather flushed.”

Matthew scowled. “He wouldn’t explain what an omega or an alpha is.”

“Ah,” Roderich said delicately. “He enjoys having this conversation with prisoners. A bit of an intimidation tactic, you see, though he is only a beta.”

“Beta?” Matthew asked. “Can you please tell me what those are?”

“Are you familiar with the terms at all, in any way?” Roderich asked.

“A bit - back on Earth, I know there were wolves in particular, they had packs and there was an alpha, the leader, and the omega and the beta, but I’m not sure what their roles were -”

“Good,” Roderich said. “This will be easier for you to understand, then. I am sure you have noticed our scents. Presumably on earth people do not smell as strongly, as you are unfamiliar with the concept.”

Matthew shook his head. “People don’t smell on earth unless they’re wearing perfume or cologne or something. So I definitely noticed.”

“Each person in Cards has an individual scent… some may be similar, but they are always unique. And each person is classified as either an alpha, beta, or omega.”

“What do they mean? What are the differences?”

“They determine whom a person can eventually mate with,” Roderich said, and Matthew blanched at the casualness of his statement.

“Alphas cannot mate with other alphas, only omegas and betas, and that is the same with omegas. Betas can mate with members of their own class, as well as alphas and omegas. But the bond will always be strongest, most intense, with an alpha and an omega. As you may already know, alphas are the dominant type, omegas are the submissive. Betas range somewhere in between.”

Matthew blinked. “Wow,” he said.

“I apologize if this is hard for you to comprehend.” Roderich said. “Speaking of which, what have you learned from that book I sent to you?”

Matthew felt a slight heat rise to his cheeks. “Um, well I haven’t really read much… it was hard to understand and kind of boring.”

“Perhaps I should go over it with you, then. Could you fetch it for me?”

Matthew picked up the book where it was lying next to his other things, and handed it to Roderich through the bars.

“Where did you leave off?” Roderich asked.

“I read through the first chapter, but I don’t know that I remember any of it,” Matthew said. 

“Alright,” Roderich responded, and he flipped the book open, cleared his throat, and began to read.

 

For the next two days Roderich wasn’t there. Matthew continued to try and struggle through the book, but it was difficult without his sort of friend there to explain certain confusing things to him. 

On the first day he woke up to see Toris as his guard. He read his book for a while, checked on the state of his washed clothes, thought about life, etc etc.  
Towards the end of the day a new scent entered the air and a rather curvy woman with short silver hair entered Matthew’s vision.

“His highness Ivan requests your presence,” she told him kindly. 

“Thank you, Katyusha,” he said. “It must be urgent if he is willing to send you up here.”

She merely smiled at him as he left.

“What did he mean by that?” Matthew asked. 

“Nothing much,” she responded. “Only that I am Ivan’s sister. He is largely protective of me and our younger sister.”

“Oh,” Matthew said.

Suddenly Katyusha perked up, a small frown on her face. 

“What’s wrong?” Matthew asked.

“She should not be here,” Katyusha muttered.

Then Matthew smelled it. It was a scent by far more overwhelming than anything he had witnessed so far. Matthew retreated to the far side of his cell, unsure what was making him so nervous. His hands shook slightly.

“What is it you want, Natalya?” Katyusha called. 

“I wanted to get a look at the prisoner,” a sweet voice dripped from down the hall. “I have heard marvelous things about him.”

A small girl with silver hair like Katyusha’s but very long appeared around the corner. When Matthew’s eyes met her piercing ones, he let out an unwilling whimper and buried his head in his knees, at the same time cursing himself for being so terrified of a girl two thirds his size.

“Natalya, please do not, you are frightening him!”

“What a weak omega,” she commented.

“The poor darling is not from our world, he has never met an alpha before!”

“So?” she asked. “Come out, little bird.”

Matthew rose his head. She curled her finger, beckoning him over. Matthew reluctantly moved forward.

Natalya reached forward, through the bars. Matthew flinched as her fingers touched his hair.

“Hmm,” she said. 

“You should return to brother, Natalya,” Katyusha said nervously. “He will not be happy if he finds out you were here.”

“Fine,” Natalya said, retreating. “Goodbye, sister.”

“Goodbye,” Katyusha answered.

It took a while for Matthew to recover, even with soothing words from Katyusha.

On the second day, Katyusha and Raivis came for him. Raivis chatted with him cheerfully about how he’d decided that he wasn’t a hallucination. Katyusha smiled as she unlocked the door.

“His Highness Ivan has requested your presence,” Katyusha announced. “Here, let me fix your hair a bit.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Matthew wondered as she messed around with it.

“Nothing, sweetie,” Katyusha said. “Come, come.”

Matthew stepped down the staircase for the first time. Katyusha and Raivis led him down about five floors before entering another room. It was very small, with a door on the other side.

“Ivan is through here,” Katyusha said, smoothing his sweater down. Matthew had changed into his jeans as well, as it was a bit chillier that morning. “He is expecting you, so there is no need to announce yourself. Though I suppose you would not know the formalities anyways, so -”

“Katy, calm down,” Raivis said, though he sounded a little shaky himself.

“Alright, go on then.” she said.

Matthew tentatively pushed the door open and entered. On the other side of the room a tall man lounged on an exquisite throne. Matthew froze as his scent slammed into him like a punch. A tear slipped down his cheek and he shivered violently.

“Oh, dear,” Katyusha muttered behind him. 

“You are the prisoner we have caught in my manor, da?” Ivan said cheerfully, with a bright smile. Matthew wasn’t reassured.  
“Y- yes,” he stuttered.

“Come closer, please,” he said, smile never fading. After a moment, he managed to put his feet in front of each other and slowly approach the King of Clubs. 

“You are afraid, da?” Ivan said. “There is no need. I will not hurt you. Yet.”

“Brother,” Katyusha said. Matthew became aware that she and Raivis had followed him into the room. “Please be gentle with him.”

“Do not worry, sister,” Ivan smiled wider. “I will be as gentle as a kitten.”

Ivan stood from his throne and walked down the few steps to the level floor. “Please, do not worry. I only wish to speak to you about something.”

Matthew was nearly his height, but he felt very vulnerable. As Ivan approached he froze, unable to move, speak, or even think about anything other than how afraid he was.

Ivan reached out and brushed Matthew’s face. “Do not cry,” he soothed. Matthew wasn’t even aware that he was crying. He couldn’t stop himself. 

“My servants have reported good things about you,” Ivan said gently, his fingers remaining on Matthew’s cheeks. “They have all commented about how helpful and obedient you are.”

Matthew didn’t respond with anything but a blink. 

“I am thinking, perhaps you could join my court, and become a servant for me, da?” Ivan said. “It would be better than being a prisoner. Roderich has informed me of your situation, and I believe that you did not sneak into my castle to harm me.”

“P-please,” Matthew said, finally finding his voice. “I just want to go home.”

Ivan’s eyes darkened in disappointment. “I am afraid you cannot go,” Ivan said, his bright tone now false. Matthew shivered. “You must stay here and work for me.”

Matthew didn’t want to agree, but Ivan’s eyes were too much. He looked away, whispering his consent. “Okay,” he said.

“Good!” Ivan exclaimed, pleased once more. “As you first begin, you will not have to see me as much as the others until you become more comfortable with me, da?”

Matthew nodded, sniffing. 

“You will start in a few days, after we have had time to prepare a room for you,” Ivan said. “Do not worry, little Matthew. You will soon be happy here.”

As Matthew turned to leave, he heard Katyusha speaking to her brother. “I thought that Natalya was against keeping him,” she said. 

“Natalya is not one of my servants,” Ivan said, and his tone was ice cold. Matthew shivered, following Raivis out of the room. ~

 

The next day, Roderich returned.

“Roderich!” Matthew gasped as soon as he recognized the scent. “Roderich, where are you?”

“I am right here,” he said, sitting by the bars.

“I don’t want to be a servant here!” Matthew cried out.

“Hush,” Roderich said, looking around apprehensively. “If Ivan hears you utter those words, he will not be pleased. He seems strangely intent on having you in our manor.”

“I just want to go home,” Matthew whispered.

“Come,” Roderich said. “Let us read from your book, perhaps that will distract you.”

Matthew looked up. “My book?”

“Surely you have not forgotten it!”

“I thought it was your book,” Matthew said.

“It is yours now,” Roderich said simply.

“Thanks,” Matthew said after a moment. He retrieved the book and handed it to Roderich.

“Where were we?” Roderich asked, opening the cover.

“Umm…” Matthew racked his brain, trying to remember. After a few moments, Roderich sighed. 

“We were discussing the formation of Deck Isle,” he said.

“Ah,” Matthew said, trying to sound like he remembered. Roderich sighed. Not fooled, then.

“We shall start from the beginning of that section, then,” Roderich said. “Deck Isle, originally simply called The Isle, was unclaimed territory in the center of Cards for centuries, as none of the countries could agree on who should own it. After the terrible War of Fifty Six years, however, the leaders of each country decided to split it between themselves. They decreed Deck Isle sacred ground, the only politically void land in Cards, and only members of the Royal Court and those that accompanied them were allowed to set foot there. At first some members of the countries disagreed…”

Matthew and Roderich continued reading about Deck Isle for a good hour until Matthew could recite what had occurred with it nearly by memory. Then they moved onto the next chapter, a brief history of Spades. Matthew had already read through the brief history of Clubs with Roderich, who added little interesting tidbits like where certain lords were now or what a certain King had done to his wife, who wasn’t a member of the Royal Court.

By the time Roderich was replaced by Raivis that night, they had gotten halfway through the section. Roderich promised that they would continue tomorrow.

The next morning Raivis was gone, replaced by Toris. Toris took Matthew to the bathing room, where Matthew now cleaned himself and washed his clothes on his own. He exited the room much faster than last time, with his clothes in fresh towels. When they got back to his cell, Roderich was waiting for them, along with a woman that smelled of a lovely mix of cooking and baking ingredients. Matthew was unable to determine whether the scent was hers or because she worked in a kitchen. He greeted Roderich with a nearly friendly tone, despite feeling quite shaky in the presence of another alpha. 

“Matthew, I would like you to meet my wife, Elizabeta.” Roderich said.

“You can call me Eliza,” she greeted. “Roddy dear is always so formal, is he not?”

Matthew bowed his head to her. “I think he’s alright,” Matthew said.

Eliza laughed. “Aren’t you just cute as a button! Sorry for the informal speech, it slips out from time to time. But anyways, I am afraid that I will have to get going, Toris is waiting for me. We have to get back to the kitchens. “Bye, you two!”

Eliza joined Toris, and the two disappeared down the staircase.

“Now,” Roderich said, turning to Matthew with a slight flush on his cheeks that Matthew found rather endearing. “Where were we?”

Matthew smiled. Roderich must love Eliza an awful lot.

“Spades,” Matthew proudly announced, handing the book through the bars with a practiced ease. “I remembered this time!”

“Good,” Roderich said. “Perhaps this will become easier for you with time.”

Matthew frowned, reminded once more of Ivan’s unwillingness to let him go. The sting wasn’t as strong as it had been, however. Roderich helped him keep his mind off of it and come to terms with it at the same time. 

That day Roderich sped Matthew through the rest of the chapter, which he said ended about ten years before the current day. Then he explained that the Jack had died and been replaced by a young Yao Wang eight years before. And only three years earlier, both the King and Queen had fallen ill and died, along with the youngest child. The two brothers in Spades had been posed to fill the King and Queen role, but now with the youngest dead, the elder had become Queen and ruled along his Jack. Matthew learned that his name was Arthur Kirkland.

“And most recently, they have found a King. At least, those are the rumors. It only occurred a few weeks ago, and has not been officially announced yet. But from our sources, we believe the new King’s name to be Alfred Jones.”

Matthew’s eyes widened and a terrible buzz filled his ears. His heart pounded. He couldn’t breathe. His head felt light and loose, as though it just might float away. So Matthew let it.

He woke with Roderich placing a cool cloth on his forehead. When he said Matthew was awake, he immediately apologized.

“I brought you food,” Roderich said. “I forgot about it with Eliza here. You must have been starving to have passed out like that.”

Matthew silently took his food, chewing each bite slowly. He felt confused. Betrayed. How could his brother do this to him? He was becoming the King in a foreign country, in a different world, while Matthew was held prisoner, his own brother, in the very same world. Why hadn’t Alfred come for him?

Unless Alfred didn’t know where he was either. Unless…

Unless he didn’t even know Matthew had followed him.

Of course - he wouldn’t have known! Matthew hadn’t told him that he was coming to visit him, only that he had a surprise. And Alfred hadn’t even responded to that text. And Alfred hadn’t seen him at all in the church.

“Matthew, are you alright? You are still very pale.”

“I didn’t pass out because I was hungry,” Matthew said very quietly. “I did it because Alfred Jones is my brother.”

Roderich was silent in shock for a moment. “Your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Is the King of Spades.”

“Apparently.”

After a moment Matthew realized what this meant. All of his words came out in a rush. “But this means I know where he is I can find him we can go home and -”

“Matthew, I am afraid it will not be that simple,” Roderich said. Matthew was suddenly nervous. “Once Kings and Queens and Jacks are chosen, they are chosen for life. Your brother would have to die to leave his position.”

“He’s not the King yet,” Matthew said determinedly.

Roderich looked uncomfortable. Matthew was suddenly struck with a certain fact that filled him with dread. This man was the Jack of Clubs. There was no doubt that he would tell Ivan of this information and Matthew’s plan.

“I must go,” Roderich said, standing, confirming Matthew’s doubts. “I am sorry.”

As he rushed away, Matthew called out after him. “Please, Roderich, please don’t tell Ivan, please, please, Roderich!”

That night, Matthew was woken by the creaking of the door of his cell.

“I can get you out of here,” A voice breathed.


	3. Two: Sauver

Francis stepped into the main hall of Spades with full flamboyancy on display. Unfortunately, Arthur was not there to witness it. Yao was the solitary figure of blue in the room. He greeted them adequately, then summoned a servant to show everyone to their rooms.

Francis killed time with Lili and Vash while waiting for the coronation to start. At one point a few servants entered, bearing their formal clothes for the day. As the time got closer, the three changed, Lili in a separate room, of course. When she asked for help with her corset, Vash sent Francis a look that could kill and entered the washroom. Not that Francis was intending to try anything, he wasn’t terribly interested in Lili in that way.

Francis tended to his hair as he waited for the other two to finish.

A Spadian servant entered the room. “I am here to escort you to the courtyard,” she said. “Please follow me.”

Francis knocked on the door to the washroom. “Time to be off,” he said smoothly. Lili and Vash exited a moment later, Vash still frantically trying to fix his sister’s hair.

“Non,” Francis said. “Simpler is better.” he slid behind Lili, replacing Vash’s fingers. He brushed out the braids Vash had been attempting, smoothing her hair out. Francis picked up her fresh wreath of flowers from the dresser and placed them on her head.

Lili giggled. “Thanks, Francis,” she said. “Vash was pulling my hair so hard, you would think he was trying to rip it out!”

“I was not!” Vash exclaimed. Francis smiled at their bickering as they walked down the hallway.

They were seated in the courtyard by their guide, who then scurried off, presumably to fetch more guests. The chairs slowly filled and eventually the orchestra began playing.

The music changed to signal the entrance of the Royal Court. Yao and Arthur entered the courtyard from the large archway behind them, walking steadily towards the altar. Behind them, three small children followed with spade leaves and the King’s scepter.

The music changed once more and the new King appeared. Francis rose an eyebrow at his appearance. He didn’t blame the King at all for wishing to change his formal attire, but he could have chosen something more stylish, perhaps.

He caught Arthur’s soft smile to Alfred and smirked. He had seen that smile before. He knew exactly what it meant, even when no one else did.

As Alfred reached the altar, he knelt, and Yao directed him in the binding vows. They exited to much fanfare. Soon everyone was standing and milling about, some heading down to the gardens for the party, some socializing a bit first. Francis lost track of Lili and Vash quickly and decided to head down to the gardens, where he settled himself in a chair with a generous glass of wine. He mostly observed the night’s progressions, watching as his own kingdom grew attached to Alfred’s friendly nature. He joined Lili and Vash towards the end of the night, feeling the need to see people. Francis was a people person, after all.

Alfred received his spade clock from Arthur, and everyone cheered. Francis himself applauded the King. Alfred joined the three at Lili’s beckoning. She promptly kissed Alfred on the cheek (much to Vash’s chagrin). Francis spotted Arthur watching out of the corner of his eye and smirked. He slung his arm around Alfred’s shoulder, turning his head to speak in Alfred’s ear.

“Many congratulations to you, Alfred,” he said. “I have the feeling that you and I will be great friends.”

Alfred grinned and laughed. “You’re Francis, right? The King of Diamonds. Yeah, your people totally love me. I’ve got no clue why.”

Alfred spotted Arthur watching them and waved him over. Arthur merely glared and shook his head. Francis grinned widely.

That night, Francis lounged in his room in a drowsy satisfaction. Not only had he pissed off Arthur tonight, but he had also managed to match together a shy couple that needed a little prodding. He felt accomplished. 

Someone knocked at the door. Francis assumed it was Vash and Lili.

“Yes, enter,” he said.

Instead of the other two thirds of his Royal Court, a rather pretty young servant entered. Francis eyed him, interested. 

“A letter for the King of Diamonds,” he stated. “Urgent business, to be read by your eyes alone, and requiring immediate response.”

“Come,” Francis purred. “Leave it on the nightstand and perhaps I can give you a favor in return.”

“I need nothing,” he said, face slightly flushed, but he walked forward and set it down anyways, hesitating by Francis’s side.

Francis hummed, pleased. He rose from the bed, feeling one of his sleeves slip down his shoulder and leaving it there. “I get lonely, sometimes,” Francis said directly, preferring tonight’s pleasure to be quick. “Would you spend some time with me tonight?”

“I - I…” he stuttered. 

Francis slipped his hands around the boy’s waist, humming pleasantly as he felt the boy respond to his touch. He hesitated for a moment, letting his breath tangle with the other’s, before moving forward and melding their lips together.

The boy practically moaned, and aces that sent shivers down Francis’s spine. Francis slipped his tongue forward, lazily feeling around the others’ mouth. Oh, the pleasure he got out of domination.

The servant shivered, letting Francis do as he pleased for a long, glorious moment. Then, reluctantly, he pulled away.

“I am sorry,” he said. “ I cannot stay. I have other duties.”

“Mmm,” Francis sighed regretfully. “Well, I suppose I cannot take your from those,” he said, hands still loosely around the other’s waist. He left soft kisses on his throat, his jaw, and one last sealing one one his lips. “Off you go, then.”

He wasn’t usually this generous. Perhaps he wasn’t in the right mood after all.

He glanced at the letter. Should he read it? Hmm. Who was it from?

Roderich. His usually neat script was now a scrawl, the instructions the servant had read off slanting on the envelope. Francis frowned, slitting it open with a long, thin finger.

Francis,

I’m sorry, I don’t have time to make this formal. There is a prisoner here in Clubs, one who desperately needs to escape and soon it will be too late. He’s an omega with absolutely no experience with alphas and Ivan’s using that to his advantage to keep him here as a new servant. But he has a brother here in Cards that he desperately needs to find and I need to get him out of Clubs before he loses his chance. Matthew can fill you in on the details when you meet him, I’ve told him that you’re to be trusted. Can you receive him from the Ice Straights tomorrow night? I will pay you later, when it is safe. Please respond ASAP

Roderich

Francis’s eyes widened as he read the letter. Roderich was never this informal, not even when it came to basely informal events and meetings. This must be serious.

He wrote a quick reply - I will be there at dusk tomorrow - and rushed down to find someone who could send it for him. Hopefully it would get to him quickly.

He informed the leader of the Diamonds procession that they would need to leave three hours earlier than they had planned tomorrow, which sent her off in a hurry to speed up the packing progress. Francis himself returned to his rooms, where Lili and Vash were now settling to sleep. He took the letter from Roderich and watched it burn.

 

The next night Francis took Marcello, Shelby, and Wendy with him to the very end of his kingdom. It was dark, and wind from the Straight blew snow across the ocean to meet them. Wendy, who hadn’t thought to bring a coat, shivered in the wind. She ended up huddling under one with Shelby back with the horses, where the ground wasn’t as cold and wet.

Francis could barely see the next island from where he stood on the shore. Marcello huddled over next to him.

Finally, Francis heard distorted voices carried to him over the rushing wind. Shouts. They went silent after a moment, then a light appeared out in the darkness. The ferry. So Roderich had sent those four.

But as the small boat came closer, Francis saw that there were two lanterns there, and six people. Had Roderich come across with them? Francis squinted, trying to make out the shapes.

The tallest, presumably Berwald, and the unmistakable Matthias jumped out into the freezing water to pull the boat ashore. Lukas and Emil stepped out, followed by another small blonde man that he didn’t recognize. The last figure remained huddled in the boat.

“We have arrived now, you can come out,” Francis heard the newest man say, coaxing the other out. Perhaps the person Roderich had spoken of had found his brother on the way to Francis.

But when the last one exited the boat, tentatively, shivering with a bag around his shoulder, Francis saw that there was no resemblance to any of the Icemen. He also noticed that he was acutely gorgeous. The wind carried his scent over to Francis, who breathed it in, nearly sighing. It was probably the sweetest thing he’d ever smelled.

Wendy and Shelby approached the commotion. The newest Iceman was trying to warm the other man up, while he simply stood there and looked around him. After a moment, he spoke in a very soft voice. “I’m alright. I’m used to the cold.”

“You are shivering,” the man said reproachfully.

“Tino,” Lukas said. “Let him be. We need to get back.”

“You take good care of this poor man,” Tino said, glaring at Francis. “He has been through a lot.”

“He’s not a poor man, Tino, he’s strong,” Berwald said gruffly. “Let’s go.”

The Icemen, with their new addition, stepped back into the boat and shoved off. Matthias waved as they disappeared back into the mist.

Francis stepped forward grandly, but hesitated when he saw the other step back, nearly into the water.

“Is your name Francis Bonnefoy?” the man called. His voice was suspicious.

“Oui, it is indeed,” Francis said smoothly, trying to ease the other’s apprehension. “I am told that your name is Matthieu?”

The man blinked in surprise. “Parlez-vous francais?”

Francis paused in surprise. The man spoke his nation’s language, his accent nearly perfect. “Oui, comment savez-vous français?”

“Il est une longue histoire,” the man responded fluidly. “But I actually am a little cold, so could we go?”

“Of course,” Francis said, back on track. “Come, we will be off.”

“Who are they?” Matthew asked as he followed at a distance.

“Some of my servants,” Francis responded. “Wendy, Shelby, you take the mare, if you fall behind, do not worry. Marcello, if you please, the river pony. I will take the thoroughbred, and rush darling Matthieu back to a warm and hospitable palace.”

The servants split without complaint. Francis turned, prepared to help Matthew onto the horse.

Matthew was petting the horse. How adorable.

“Are you ready?” Francis asked. Matthew looked over as he approached. As he got closer, Matthew averted his eyes and bit his lip. Francis licked his own lips, a warmth stirring in his stomach. This omega was simply delicious.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Matthew said, and he walked straight past Francis, gripped the saddle of the horse, and lifted himself up and over with ease. Francis stared.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to get on first?” Matthew said, blushing. “I’ve only ever ridden with another person one time, and that was my brother, quite a few years ago.”

“I seem to have mistaken you,” Francis said with a grin, lifting himself up as Matthew had done. “I had taken you for one of high birth. Or did you go on many hunting trips as a child?”

“Neither,” Matthew said. “It’s a long story.”

Francis leaned back slightly, enjoying the feeling he got as Matthew’s chest brushed against him. He tilted his head to whisper in Matthew’s ear. “Perhaps you could tell it to me later, when we have… some time alone.” he suggested, breath hot against Matthew’s skin. He felt the man shiver. With a smirk of satisfaction, he leaned forward once more, took the reigns, and prodded the horse forward.

Matthew let out a yelp and wrapped his arms around Francis, startling him. “Now I understand why my brother complained so much,” Matthew said in Francis’s ear. “It’s harder riding on the back of someone else!” 

Francis nearly laughed at the innuendo. Matthew’s scent filled him pleasantly, and he hummed in contentment. He was glad he had read Roderich’s letter. ~

 

By the time they made it back to the City of Diamonds, Matthew had completely relaxed against Francis, still holding tight to his waist. The streets were mostly empty as Francis led his horse to the front of the palace.

“Matthieu,” Francis whispered.

“Mmhmm,” Matthew sighed, breath tickling Francis’s neck. 

“Time to get down,” Francis said.

“Mmm,” he complained.

Francis chuckled softly. “I know, you are tired. But once we get inside you can sleep in a warm bed, would you like that?”

“Mmhmm,” Matthew said sleepily. He allowed himself to slowly slip off the side of the horse, searching for the strap with his foot. Francis followed down after him. Matthew’s eyes were closed, hair hanging over his face. Francis took his hand and led him into the palace.

On the way in they ran into Monica. “Could you fetch some water for him, please?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she said, curtsying. Francis continued on with Matthew, leading him to his chambers.

“Wait here for just a moment, mon cher,” Francis said. He left to start up a fire. When he turned back, Matthew had made his way over to the lounge couch and sat himself down. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

Francis couldn’t help but giggle. He made his way to the back of the couch, smoothing Matthew’s hair. “Mon cher, you are so adorable, I cannot stand it,” he said, smiling.

“M’not adorable,” Matthew reproached. “M’a very strong lumberjack.”

“I do not know what that word means, but alright, we can go with that. Come, Matthieu, time to sleep.”

“M’kay,” Matthew said, and started to lay down on the couch.

“Non, non, Matthieu, you will sleep in the bed,” Francis laughed, pulling him back up. Francis took his hand once more and brought him over to the bed, which he had had custom made for his own comfort (and occasionally others’). 

“This is your bed, isn’t it,” Matthew frowned.

“Oui.”

“I won’t sleep in your bed,” Matthew said, still looking down at it.

Francis gently pulled Matthew’s bag from him, setting it on the floor. “Why not? You are tired, non?”

“Oui,” Matthew responded.

“Then you should sleep. My bed is very warm, so it will help you stay healthy after being in the cold for so long.”

“I’m used to cold,” Matthew argued. “And you were there too.”

“Would you prefer we both sleep in the bed?” Francis asked slyly. Matthew’s face reddened immediately.

“Non,” he whispered, but Francis caught the hesitation. He smiled. 

“Let me change into my nightclothes,” Francis said. “Would you like to borrow some of mine?”

Matthew’s flush deepened. “Um…”

“Do not worry, Matthieu, I do not mind.” Francis said. He gave Matthew one of his softest nightgowns. It was also one of his shortest.

Francis turned his back to Matthew to allow him his privacy, but cared nothing for his own. He casually stripped, not missing for a moment the startled gasp that came from Matthew. Grinning, he slipped into his nightgown. It fell halfway down his thighs.

“Are you ready?” Francis purred.

“Eh? Umm… just one moment please.” Francis heard the ruffling of fabric for a few moments before Matthew mumbled his consent.

Francis turned, anticipating the result. Matthew was taller than Francis by just a few inches, so the nightgown was even shorter on him than Francis had expected. And the blush on Matthew’s face was deeper than ever. He held his hands in front of himself, self conscious.

He simply looked at Francis, who smiled and tilted his head towards the bed. Matthew was thrown into motion again. He removed his spectacles and placed them on the bedside table, bending over slightly and revealing to Francis the glorious curve of his back. Francis slowly walked over to the other side of the bed, watching Matthew every moment. Matthew turned, met his eyes, looked away, then after a moment, climbed into the bed. Francis smiled at his shyness.

Francis climbed on after Matthew was settled, purposely letting his shirt hang low so Matthew could see a slice of skin. He looked away, still flushed. Francis smirked. He really was letting himself enjoy this too much.

Matthew rolled over to face the wall. Francis let him, for now. But he whispered one last thing in Matthew’s ear before going to sleep.

“Last night, Matthieu, I looked up at the stars and I wished that they would bring me someone to end my loneliness. I think that they sent me you.”

 

Francis woke to a cold draft. He cursed internally. Who had left the window open last night? He was up and out of bed before he really opened his eyes and saw the cause for the cool air.

Matthew was standing at the window.

“Bonjour, mon cher,” Francis said. “May I ask what you are doing?”

Matthew didn’t turn around. “I’m just looking,” he said. “It’s beautiful here. In Clubs, all I could see out of my window were sunflowers and mountains.”

Francis joined Matthew at the window. “I rather enjoy the view myself,” he said. “You can see the ocean from here, look. In the morning it is like a glittering jewel.”

Matthew turned to face Francis. “You’re not going to make me stay in one room the entire time I’m here, are you?”

Francis gasped. “Non, non! I would never imprison you like that horrible Ivan. Here. Today I personally will take you around the palace and show you all the places you can see.”

“Oh, non, that’s not necessary -”

“But of course it is!” Francis insisted. “I must be a good host. First, we will get dressed, and then I will take you down to breakfast.”

“Oh, but… alright.”

Francis beamed. “Now, would you like to wear your own clothes or something more… traditional?”

Matthew tilted his head. “Traditional?”

“Oui,” Francis said, looking around the room. “I think I have something that would look good on you,”

“Sil vous plait, don’t worry about it. I can wear my own clothes.”

Francis looked over Matthew’s frame. “It is not a bother, and I am not worried. Come.”

Francis led Matthew into his closet. There, he chose out a gold waistcoat with trousers and a loose and flowy pale yellow shirt. Satisfied, he held them out to Matthew.

“Your hair will go perfectly,” he decided.

“Oh,” Matthew said. “Okay.”

Francis swiveled around. “Now, for moi…”

Francis chose an outfit somewhat similar to Matthew’s just a bit fancier and a bit less modest. Like yesterday, he gave no thought to the fact that Matthew was in the room with him (or rather, gave every thought) and changed. He nearly laughed when he heard Matthew’s voice from behind. 

“Is this going to be an everyday occurrence? Because I, honestly, don’t think I could handle that.”

“Why, Matthieu, I did not know you were uncomfortable with this,” Francis said, turning around. Matthew yelped and fell backwards, desperately trying to cover up his bare chest. At that, Francis did laugh.

With a red face, Matthew sat forward, clutching his shirt to his chest. He glared up at Francis. “I’m not exactly as flamboyant as you are, you know.”

Francis smiled. “If it helps, I completely do not mind seeing you like this.”

“It doesn’t help,” Matthew said stubbornly. “I do mind.”

“Why?” Francis asked curiously.

“Why?” Matthew spluttered. “I - I don’t know, I just… I just…” he sighed. “You promise not to laugh?”

“Of course not.”

“Whenever - back home, on - I mean, back home, my brother and his friends always made fun of me when we changed together… going to the pool, or the gym, or whatever we were doing that day. They teased how pale I was and how skinny. And even now, I’m still skinnier and paler than my brother. He was always out in the sun. But I wasn’t. Most times I wasn’t invited, but sometimes I chose not to go outside. Because if I stayed inside, no one would tease me. Except maybe… Kumajuju.” Matthew wrinkled his brow. “I think that was his name, anyways.”

A great sadness filled Francis as he heard Matthew’s story. “I am sorry, Matthieu. I promise while you are here no one will do those things to you.”

Matthew attempted a half smile.

“But, I do have one question…” Francis continued. “What is a pool?”

Matthew’s eyes widened. “Oh - eh…”

“I do not believe that I have heard of a gym, either, before.”

“It’s nothing,” Matthew said, looking away. “Let’s just go get something to eat, yeah?”

“Dressed like that?” Francis teased.

“Oh!” Matthew said. He quickly slipped his shirt on. “How does the vest button up?” He asked, slipping into the sleeves.

“You really are not from high birth, are you?” Francis asked. “I am not usually wrong about these things.” He reached forward. His fingers brushed Matthew’s chest as he slowly pulled the latches together.

“Um, no.” Matthew laughed nervously. 

Francis examined Matthew closely. Why did he get the feeling that Matthew was hiding something from him?

Francis led Matthew up to the dining hall, where Lili and Vash were eating breakfast already.

“Lili, Vash!” Francis called. “I would like you to meet mon chéri Matthieu.”

“Good morning Francis!” Lili called. “Hello, Matthew!”

Vash simply looked, and gave a short nod.

Vash kept his eyes on Matthew the entirety of the breakfast. Francis kept his eyes on Vash. He didn’t like the way he looked at Matthew.

After breakfast, Vash pulled him aside.

“Why is it that you were watching Matthew this morning?” Francis asked, tone casual, but eyes threatening.

“Are you telling me you do not recognize him? Not at all?” Vash asked. Francis wrinkled his brow in confusion. 

“It took me a while to be sure. But he looks an awful lot like that new King of Spades, hmm?”

Francis looked back at Matthew, eyes wide. “Are you saying that he is Alfred disguised?”

“I think it is a definite possibility. Be careful,” Vash warned. “Lili recognized him too, I could tell, but she is more likely to explain it away as a coincidence.”

Francis looked at Matthew wistfully. “Ah, this breaks my lovely heart,” he sighed.

Francis went back to Matthew and spent the rest of the day showing him all the wonders of the palace, but all day Vash’s warning lingered in his mind. If Matthew was really Alfred, Francis didn’t think he could stand it. 

Finally, when Matthew was looking through the large library Francis hosted, he worked up the courage to ask. 

“Matthieu?” he called. His head popped out from behind a large stack of books at once. 

“Oui?”

“I have a question I need to ask,” Francis said softly. “It is driving me insane.”

“What is it?” Matthew asked immediately, approaching Francis with a concerned look.

“I do not know how best to say this,” Francis said, fingers coming to his temple. “Are you hiding something from me?”

E - eh?” Matthew stuttered, face reddening. “What would make you think that?”

“Please, Matthieu. Just tell me. Is your name really Matthieu? Or is it Alfred?”

Matthew stared at him in shock for a moment. And in that moment, Francis believed the worst. 

“You’ve met Alfred?” Matthew asked.

Francis blinked. 

“He’s my brother!” Matthew said, a hopeful gleam in his eye. “Have you seen him? Is he alright?”

“Your brother,” Francis repeated softly, relief flooding through his system. “He is fine.”

“Don’t worry, lots of people think I’m him,” Matthew said, quickly waving it away.

Francis frowned. “But if you are not hiding the fact that you are secretly Alfred come to spy on my kingdom, then… you must be hiding something, based on your earlier reaction.”

Matthew looked away. After a moment, he responded. “Yes, I am hiding something.”

Francis reached out and brushed Matthew’s fingers. “I wish you to be honest with me,” he said.

“I just… if you knew, I wouldn’t - I mean, I don’t -” Matthew screwed his face up in anguish. “Well, I guess I just thought… I thought that you might like me, please, don’t be mad if I’m wrong, and if you knew what I’m hiding, you might… not like me anymore.”

Francis chuckled. “Oh, Matthieu, you have no idea how much I like you, and I barely know you. I do not think anything you could tell me would stop that.”

Matthew finally met Francis’s eyes, displaying a clear blue, almost violet color. “Alfred and I aren’t from Cards. We live on Earth, and I’m trying to find him so we can go home.”

It was like a shard of glass had punched through Francis’s chest. Yes, he had only known Matthew for a day, but he couldn’t stand to lose him so soon. 

“Oh,” Francis said softly.

“See,” Matthew said, in a sort of hopeless voice that Francis hated. “I told you.”

“Non, non, non non non non non,” Francis rushed over his words. He stepped forward, cupping his hands around Matthew’s face. “Matthieu, do not mistake my silence for rejection. I am simply saddened to hear that we have limited time together.”

Matthew’s eyes brightened. “You’re still…”

“Oui,” Francis said, and kissed him.

Matthew immediately responded, completely melting himself into Francis. He let out a soft, pleased noise and Francis pressed closer, hands roaming all over Matthew, his arms, his shoulders, his back. Matthew clutched to Francis’s shirt as their mouths opened, tongues pressing together in a lovely way. Francis moaned.

Matthew pulled back with wet, open lips, panting. “Francis,” he whispered helplessly.

“Matthieu,” Francis responded, voice husky. “Aces -”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you tonight,” Matthew breathed.

“Oh,” Francis moaned, head rolling back at the images that produced. Matthew laughed breathily, and after a moment Francis joined in.

That night, they fell asleep with tangled limbs.

 

When Francis woke up, Matthew was desperately tugging at his shirt. His face was red, forehead glistening. 

“Finally,” he said. “I thought you would never wake up. I think I’m sick, I’m really hot all over, and -”

Matthew took in a sharp gasp and his eyes squeezed shut. His hands immediately withdrew from Francis and he pressed them to his gut.

“And that,” he finished.

“Oh, non,” Francis whispered. He could already smell it in the air. Matthew was going into heat.

Immediately Francis darted over to his dresser and wrapped a cloth around his face, attempting to cover the scent. It didn’t help much.

“Matthieu, please wait here. I will get help for you,” he said, then ran for Lili.

For the next seven days, Francis was an absolute horror, and he knew it.

He always prized himself for being dramatic, and now he threw himself into his role with passion and gusto. When the end of the fourth day came, he began complaining. Fifth day, cooking. Sixth day, mourning his life. Seventh day, bothering Lili about when Matthew would return. Francis couldn’t sleep in his room anymore now that Matthew’s heat scent lingered in it.

In the afternoon of the seventh day, Matthew found Francis in the library.

“Matthieu!” Francis cried, holding him tight and peppering him with kisses. “I thought I was going to die if I had to wait any longer -”

“Yes, Lili has told me of the dramatic bastard that you’ve become,” Matthew said, amused. “I suppose now you’re going to die because I won’t kiss you?”

“I just might,” Francis said, staring up into Matthew’s eyes. “Are you serious?”

Matthew simply shrugged, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

“Matthieu, I do believe you are teasing!” Francis gasped. “I did not know you had it in you.”

“There are a lot of things people don’t know about me,” Matthew said.

“Well then, I make it my goal to learn all those things,” Francis announced grandly. “And today, we can begin by taking a walk in the gardens.”

Matthew scoffed. “I don’t believe you’ll actually follow through,” he said.

“So then a wager is struck.” Francis grabbed Matthew’s arm and pulled him out of the library.

“Where are we going?” Matthew asked. 

“To the western gardens,” Francis said. ~

Matthew and Francis sat in the shade of a line of hedges as the sun began to set.

“I must leave tomorrow,” Francis remembered.

“What! Why?” Matthew asked, startled. 

“The Royal Court of Hearts has found their third member.”

“Hearts?” Matthew said. “Roderich and I didn’t get that far in my book. I haven’t even opened it since I’ve been here.”

“What do you mean?” Francis asked curiously.

“Roderich gave me a book so I could learn about Cards. We got through the brief history of Clubs and Spades before I got out.” Matthew paused. “Or, before he got me out.”

“The Jack of Hearts died a few months ago,” Francis explained. “He was the last of his generation in the Court to do so. Now they have found a new Jack.”

“So you’re going to Hearts?”

“For the celebration,” Francis confirmed. “I believe it would be safest if you stayed here. Less people to deal with, less questions asked. And you would be able to work out how to get back into Clubs to go home. I assume Ivan would not be happy to see you again.”

“Mmm,” Matthew nodded. “I don’t even know where the room with the doors was in the manor.”

“How would you not know?” Francis asked.

“I passed out right after I entered the room,” Matthew explained. “When I woke up again, I was in a cell.”

Francis suddenly became aware of how dark it was getting.

“I still have to pack tonight,” he said regretfully. “We should probably begin walking back.”

“I suppose,” Matthew responded.

[The next morning]

“I wish I did not have to leave,” Francis said. 

“I’ll be fine,” Matthew said, clutching tighter to Francis’s arm. “It’s chilly this morning.”

“It is,” Francis said, hesitating.

“What is it?” Matthew asked.

Francis nodded ahead, to where they had been sitting yesterday. “I wish to show you something.”

“Alright,” Matthew said, smiling down at Francis. He buried his pink nose in Francis’s hair. 

Francis and Matthew walked arm in arm down to the little gate at the end of the path. Hedges surrounded the area. Francis took a deep breath. He had never shown this part of the grounds to anyone before, everyone who resided in the palace knew to stay well away from it. And now he was going to show it all to a man he barely knew?

Francis looked over at Matthew. The sun shone in his hair and on his soft smile, reassuring him. He was making the right choice.

“This is my garden,” Francis said, pushing the gate open.

Matthew walked in and gasped.

There were many rosebushes lining the edges, intermixed with various yellow and orange flowers. In the center was a large tree, with branches spreading out to provide shade. The grass was thick and soft, and tangled with overgrown moss. 

“I planted that tree when I first came here,” Francis said. “Most do not know its origins, nor of its existence. The hedges I planted soon after, and eventually it has grown to become this.”

“It’s amazing,” Matthew said. “It’s really pretty. I never see flowers like these back home.”

While Matthew was looking around, Francis carefully picked a lush, deep red rose and placed it between his teeth. When Matthew turned back to face him, he laughed, eyes squeezing shut.

Francis swung his hips sensually, dancing towards Matthew with lidded eyes. Matthew couldn't stop giggling, even though he tried to maintain a straight face. When he reached Matthew, he plucked the rose from his lips and tucked behind Matthew's ear, careful not to let the thorns scratch his skin. 

Matthew smiled teasingly. "I am sorry, good sir, I'm afraid that roses do not flatter my complexion."

"I have to disagree," Francis murmured. He pressed his hands gently to Matthew's, touching their noses together. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Matthew whispered, eyes locked on Francis’s.

“If I had it my way you and I would stay here forever, enjoying each others’ company.” Francis responded. He internally winced at the pang of sadness that reached his heart. “But that would never be allowed to happen.”

“I should say not, I won’t eat flowers for the rest of my life,” Matthew said, but there was none of the teasing tone required in the words.

“You know what I mean,” Francis said, nearly too soft to hear.

Matthew brushed forward tentatively, eyes flicking between Francis’s eyes and his lips. His breath was warm on Francis’s lips. 

Francis closed his eyes.

 

“Excuse me,” Kiku said, soft voice rising above the chatter. “May the aces find favor in you.”

Francis looked around. All eyes were turned towards the Hearts Court. There had been a surprisingly large turnout for Feliciano’s celebration, despite the fact that only a single member of Clubs had shown. Plenty of Francis’s own subjects, and a respectable crowd of citizens, had come along in the procession. And of course, there were probably over two hundred members of Hearts in attendance. 

Suddenly, the focus in the room shifted. Francis looked around, trying to catch up - what had happened? Then he spotted the woman from Clubs, who had stood. She looked as though she were going to pass out, poor girl.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Truly. But I have brought news that all here need to know. It has to do with why I am the only one from Clubs here today.”

“Has something happened?” a voice called. The woman took a shaky breath.

“I am here to report what is happening, no more.” she said. “And so I will report. This very moment, while you all sit and celebrate an ancient rite, my King Ivan Braginsky is not home. Today, Clubs officially declares war on Diamonds.”

Francis’s vision went red. A million thoughts flashed through his mind, all in an instant - how can this be happening, what will happen to my country, my citizens, Vash and Lili, I need to protect them, why now, why us, Matthieu, Matthieu -

Francis stood, chair crashing to the ground behind him.

“What is the meaning of this!” he shouted. “You play dirty tricks, girl! Waiting until Diamonds is unprotected by me and my court - and attacking only then? You cowards!”

Francis became aware of Vash’s hands taking a hold of him, pulling him back. Immediately he turned to them, ignoring the chaos that erupted around them.

“I need to get back,” he said pleadingly, as though he were a small child again.

“Francis, you cannot -” Lili began.

“I need to go back,” he repeated. “You two, listen, this is of utmost importance. I need you to find the King and Queen of Spades - both of them, mind you, at the same time, it is very important, they must be together when you tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Vash asked incredulously. 

“Hush, I am getting to that! You must tell them that they must remain here until my return, at which time I will secure a package on one of their ships. At that time they must be prepared to leave at once. And do not forget to remind them that once they are back in Spades, they need not remove the package. Simply being in Spades, it will be safe.”

Lili gave him a sad look. “You are going for Matthew, are you not?”

“You must not tell them,” Francis said. “You must tell no one of the nature of my journey. I must go. Tell them. Do not forget!”

Francis dashed off.

He wove through the crowd. Where there were no plain openings, he didn't waste the time it took to ask them to move. He pushed through. 

Until one person he collided with latched onto his wrist. Francis swiveled around, ready to tell them off, when he saw Ludwig's concerned face looking down at him. 

"I am sorry - no time - I must go," Francis said. 

"Be careful," Ludwig said. "Use one of our thoroughbreds."

"Merci," Francis said, remembering only later that Ludwig didn't know his language. 

Francis burst into the stables already talking. "I need your fastest horse that can endure long distance," he called to the servants, striding authoritively forward. "By order of your King Ludwig, and I do not have time for the particulars as this is urgent, so if you have a problem you can take it to him."

"You can take William, sir, he is the fastest in the country, and can keep a pace like no other horse I have ever seen," a servant said hurriedly. "He is a bit picky about his riders though, he may not take to you."

"We will see about that," Francis muttered. As soon as William was out of the stable, Francis pulled himself atop and prepared to fly. 

It took over three hours to get the palace stables. 

The first person he saw got a very thorough questioning to the whereabouts of Matthew. After being told that he was currently working in the library, Francis power walked to him. 

"Matthieu?" He called. He smelt the air, trying to figure out where he was. 

"Francis?" Matthew's surprised voice came from behind the bookshelves. "You're back!"

"Not for long," Francis said. Matthew appeared in the main alleyway and hugged him. Francis absentmindedly looped his arms around Matthew's waist. "I need you to get your things. You are leaving."

"I... I'm leaving?" He said. His face went pale as Francis watched. 

"Diamonds is threatened. You need to leave for your own safety," Francis said. 

"What about your safety?" Matthew cried. "Is that not important? I want to stay with you."

Francis pulled away. "You were always going to leave!" He shouted. "What is the difference whether it is now or later? I am going to take you back to Hearts and you will stay on one of the Spades' ships secretly, until you get to Spades and can find your brother. And then you will go home."

A tear slipped down his face, and he turned away from Matthew to hide it. 

After a moment, he spoke again. "I must speak to some people and begin preparing our defense. Please meet me in the stables in under an hour."

He walked out of the library, and when Matthew pleaded his name, he didn't look back. 

Matthew was there when he walked into the stables. Petting a horse. Again. 

When he saw Francis, he turned and took a deep breath. “Before you say anything, I want to.” he said, mouth set in a stubborn line. Francis blinked in surprise.

“I’m sorry that me leaving is hurting you,” he said. “It’s hurting me too. I feel like I just met you and now the rest of our time together was stolen from us. But I won’t say I’m sorry for knowing you. You’re probably the first person outside of my family who’s ever paid more attention to me than to Alfred. And I really like you. And I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”

Towards the end of his speech Matthew lost a little steam. His face colored. “So, yeah. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“Oh, Matthieu,” Francis mumbled. He stepped forward and hugged him tight. “I am sorry for what I said earlier. It was uncalled for.”

“No, it was true.” Matthew said. 

“Your Highness!” a servant called. “If you are to make it back to Hearts you must leave now!”

"Let's go," Matthew said. 

He had his face buried in Francis's neck the entire way back. 

Francis left the horse tied down a ways from the port. He and Matthew held hands as they walked down towards where Spades' ships were docked. Francis looked back at the castle a few times, which wasn't very far from the water. He hoped no one could see them. He wanted Matthew to remain as secret as possible from Ivan's eyes. 

"That ship," Francis said, pointing to one with the Spades' crest. "You must try to avoid speaking too much to others, and try not to attract too much attention to yourself until you arrive in Spades. Then you must find your brother in the castle."

"Francis?" Matthew said. 

Francis turned, taking Matthew's face gently in his hands. He merely gazed upon it for a moment, rubbing his fingers on his skin and his soft hair. 

"You do know why I am doing this for you?" He asked softly. 

"I think so," Matthew replied. He seemed as lost in Francis as he was in him. 

"I want to keep your location hidden to Ivan," he explained. "If he finds you, no matter how you are protected, he will take you back to his manor and keep you there forever. I had a friend, once. He and his brother knew a woman that was hiding from Ivan in Hearts, but he found her and made her his queen. Now she is married to the Jack, but I believe his original intention was to have her for his own. I know firsthand how powerful he is."

"I understand," Matthew said, and he leaned forward and kissed Francis hard. His lips were warm, moving slowly and passionately. Francis was blown away by how boldly he was acting, but then he smiled and relaxed, responding with much enthusiasm. Maybe Matthew had some bite to him after all. 

Matthew was also the one who broke away, lips wet and shining in the moonlight and parted slightly. With flushed skin he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and slipped down quietly to the ship. Francis watched him go. 

A large rustling noise erupted behind him and suddenly he found himself in the grip of a largely built man. He twisted to get away, but Ivan Braginsky's low voice spoke in his ear. 

"How sweet little Matthew is, da?"


	4. Three: Réunion

Matthew snuck away to the ship that Francis had pointed to. The moon gleamed on the water, showing the definition of the waves. Matthew could hear them lapping softly at the shore and slapping against the wooden poles of the docks. His shoes thudded softly against the old wood as well, and a few times he thought that his feet were going to go right through the old planks. He made it safely to the ship, however, and luckily there was a gangplank still connected to the dock. Matthew treaded up it lightly, looking around for people. He wasn’t sure where to hide himself. 

After a moment, he spotted a door labeled “Storage.” Smiling, he entered it. It was filled with boxes and crates, ropes, food supplies, water barrels, luggage, and more. He settled himself behind a few layers of things, shuffling some around to make more room. He pulled out another one of his sweaters and made a pillow with it, curling up to sleep.

He hadn’t expected to sleep much at all, with all he had ever heard about being on a ship for the first time. However, the next time he woke, it was midday, bright, and a significant amount of the items around him had disappeared. 

Matthew scrambled up and exited the room. There was no one else on the deck except for a lone crewman, whose back was facing him. 

Matthew hurried over to where the gangplank had been last night. It was no longer there. There was no other visible way off the ship.

Matthew glanced back at the other man. He still hadn’t noticed him, but Matthew didn’t want to wait for him to turn and question what Matthew was doing and how he had gotten there. With no other options, Matthew steeled himself, stepped up the side of the ship, and jumped, holding tight to his bag and his glasses.

Luckily, this ship wasn’t very big, so the distance to the water wasn’t enough to hurt more than a nasty sting. Matthew sunk deep, unable to open his eyes in the salt water. He kicked out, hoping to dear God that there were no monsters or plants about to brush against any of his limbs. Slowly, his breath ran out, but he still managed to break the surface with plenty left. 

He could barely see the shore. Quickly he took a deep breath and submerged under the surface, where the waves didn't hit him as strongly. He came up for air several times, checking to make sure he was still going the right direction. It took him forever to reach the shore, and by that time he was exhausted. Swimming had never been his strong suit, he had begged his parents to let him quit after the third year. Alfred could swim well. Maybe that was why he was invited to all the pool parties Matthew wasn't. 

Who was he kidding. He knew why he hadn't been invited. 

As soon as he got to dry shore he was absolutely covered in sand. He quickly pulled his shoes off, followed by his socks, and looked around for a place to stay hidden. Along the beach a ways away was a grove of trees. Shivering, Matthew began to walk down towards it, making sure to walk where the waves would erase his footsteps. 

When he got into the trees he set his bag down and opened it. Nearly everything inside was soaked through. Matthew sighed, dug around for the driest set of clothes there were, squeezed them out at least ten times, and finally peeled off his wet clothes and changed. He was still freezing. 

He wiped his glasses off - thankfully he had managed to keep hold of them. But he doubted he would be admitted into Spades' castle like this. He would have to wait until everything dried out. 

He searched around for a good place to spread his things out to dry, then pulled out the book Roderich had given him. Mournfully he looked over the ruined pages. He peeled each one apart carefully, blowing on them until he began to feel lightheaded. Then he simply continued flapping the book around in the air like an idiot. 

He waited patiently for his clothes to dry for about an hour before running out of grass to shred and flowers to string into crowns and acorns to attempt to crack. Then he took a walk, staying at all times in sight of his things. After that, he climbed a tree. He gave that up after nearly falling and scraping his hands. He had to make a quick jaunt down to the ocean after that, leaving a trail of rocks, to dip his bleeding hands in water. He realized directly after that that was an absolutely terrible idea.

Matthew squinted and bit his lips hard, trying not to cry. 

"I saw what you did," a voice called. "Not a very smart move."

Matthew turned to see a woman hurrying to him. She carried a bucket of water in her hands. 

"I was just about to water some of the plants," she said. "But I think you need this more than they do."

"Thank you," Matthew said, relieved. He stuck his hands in the bucket, flushing out the remaining salt water. 

"I have to get back," she said. "Make sure you bandage those hands."

"Yeah," Matthew said, and he waited until she was out of sight before going to find his rock trail. 

His clothes were still wet. 

 

When he woke up in the morning, his things were finally completely dry and they smelled like the trees around them. He repacked his bag, once more going through the tedious task of pulling every one of the book pages apart to make sure they wouldn’t stick together permanently. He had also done so just before he had gone to sleep.

With his bag ready, he slung it over his shoulder and made his way down to the beach. After a moment, he saw the woman who had helped him yesterday and froze. She was shin deep in the ocean, looking down at the water as if trying to find something. Her short, choppy black hair fell in front of her face. A woven basket lay back on the shore.

After a moment she plunged her hands into the water and pulled out two small fish. Matthew blinked, amazed. 

She turned back to put them in the basket, her hands maintaining a strong grip so they didn’t slip back into the water. That was when she saw Matthew.

“You came back,” she said. “To thank me, perhaps? There is no need.”

Matthew stuttered around, trying to find his words without revealing who he was. “No, I’m… I… well, I -”

“Hmm,” she mused. “Or perhaps you never left?”

That shut him up. “Yeah,” he said sheepishly. 

“Were you ashamed to go to your family with your injured hands?” She asked, approaching him. “I see you have not bandaged them.”

“No,” Matthew said awkwardly. “My - My family doesn’t live near here.”

“Where do they live?”

“In.. in another country. But um, I was wondering if you could direct me towards the city of Spades, because that’s where I’m going… yeah.”

The woman smiled. “I understand. You wish to keep your matters private. I will respect that. The city is straight that direction,” she said, pointing. “A while past my house.”

“Thanks,” Matthew said. “And thanks for the water.”

“Like I said, there is no need.” she said, smiling. “You are simply lucky that I was here.”

Matthew nodded and accepted her answer. But as he got closer and closer to her home, he saw things that made him question her. 

It looked very old, and quite run down, and sections of the yard looked like they had been completely abandoned. But the rest looked as though it had been freshly gardened. Matthew peered through a window into her house and saw that many of the surfaces were covered with dust and unused. A cupboard door lay ajar and Matthew saw that it was empty, yet there were dirty dishes near the sink, which looked clean.

He began to question her parting statement. Instead of just a simple saying she announced to be friendly with him, what if he really was lucky she was here? What if she had only just arrived here?

Matthew shook it off. There was no point in wondering. He needed to find Alfred and go home and then none of this would ever matter again.

And then Matthew was struck with the thought of Francis. Would Francis matter? Would Francis matter when he was safe at home, wondering if this trip had all been a dream? Matthew had been effectively avoiding the thought of the King of Diamonds before now.

He trudged on, avoiding the thoughts again. 

He saw the city soon after he passed her house. But when he entered it, he was very quickly lost among the citizens. 

He tried asking for directions to the castle, but most people just looked at him strangely or ignored him. However, when he got to what could have been a market, a girl seemed to have recognized him. 

“I did not think you would return!” she said, waving. Matthew was confused, until she came over. “So what do you need here, King Alfred?”

Matthew wasn’t sure whether or not to go along with pretending to be Alfred or correcting her. He went with the latter. He cleared his throat, preparing to present the best imitation voice of Alfred’s he had. Which was, quite truly, the most accurate of anyone who knew Alfred.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could point me back to the castle?” He asked. He laughed obnoxiously and his hand went to the back of his neck, itching there just like Alfred did when he was embarrassed. “I think I got a bit turned around.”

The girl laughed indulgently. “Yeah, of course! The castle is straight through there,” she said, pointing. “Better get back before Queen Arthur gets mad at you again.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks!”

He hurried away, coughing forcefully. It hurt his voice to speak so loudly. 

He got out of the market fairly quickly and saw the castle rising up on a hill. There was a path leading up to it, but Matthew still had to wander around the perimeter quite a while before finding the main gate. 

There were a number of guards lounging around. One of them walked out to meet him. 

"Hello," the woman said, friendly but guarded. "What business do you have here?"

"Um," Matthew said. "I'm here to see Alfred - uh, the King, I mean. I know him. Personally."

The woman rose an eyebrow. She smelled like butter. A beta. Matthew was getting better at identifying the class by scent. Hers wasn't very strong. 

"I'm afraid we will have to check with his Highness before allowing you in."

"Oh, that's fine," Matthew said. "I can wait a moment."

Only after she had left did he realize he hadn't given her his name. He smacked his own forehead. The other guards looked at him strangely. 

Matthew sat down on the stone, adjusting himself so the stones didn't dig into his back. He tucked his feet under himself so he was cross legged. He squinted up awkwardly at the guards, who averted their eyes. 

The woman from before returned shortly after and opened a door in the gate to admit Matthew. 

"This way, please," she said, gesturing where he should go. "His Highness will see you."

Spades was completely different from both Clubs and Diamonds. The style reminded Matthew of an old English mansion mixed with simple Asian influenced architecture. It was a strange combination. 

Matthew walked up to where a man stood at a pair of gilded doors. “Are you here for an audience with the King?” He asked. Matthew nodded in response. The man turned and pushed the doors open, announcing to the room: “Your guest.”

Matthew entered the large room, feeling very small. Suddenly, for some reason, he was afraid to look up. What if Alfred wasn’t here? What if all of this was just a mistake, or some sick joke?

And then he heard Alfred’s voice, screaming his name.

Matthew looked up to see his brother rushing towards him in a blue getup reminiscent to his own. He grabbed Matthew’s face in his hands as they grew closer rubbing his fingers back and forth as though trying to reassure himself that they were really there, really together. Matthew understood the feeling. 

“Alfred,” Matthew whispered, and then he was a sobbing mess, hugging Alfred tightly. “God, at last I’ve found you. Alfie -”

“Mattie, Mattie, how did you get here?” Alfred stroked his Matthew’s hair, and the latter sighed, comforted at last, enveloped by the strong, safe new scent his brother carried.

“I followed you,” he responded, and was startled to see a tear slip down Alfred’s cheek.

“What do you mean?” Alfred said, sniffing.

“I followed you,” Matthew repeated. “I flew over to see you, to surprise you, and I followed you in the church. You went through that door and when I did too, I blacked out. And when I woke up I was in a dungeon and Ivan was so terrifying and everyone was so overwhelming and I barely got out.”

“You were Ivan’s prisoner?” Alfred asked, a dangerous tone entering his voice.

“Yes,” Matthew said. “But one of my guards helped me escape and I stayed in Diamonds and then Francis got me here.” Matthew nearly smiled at the memory of Roderich’s kindness, along with Katyusha, the five Icemen, and most of all, Francis.

The other man in the room gasped. “You were the package!” he cried. “That’s why it was in Alfred’s best interest to take it - I mean, you...”

Matthew nodded. He gazed at the other curiously. He had short, choppy hair and was dressed quite elaborately, at least compared to the two brothers.

“So...” the man said slowly. “You two...”

Alfred quickly explained. “Mattie is my brother,” he said. “We’re twins.”

“Oh,” the man said, looking mildly relieved. “Yes, I can see how you look alike. You look nearly exactly alike. I just wasn’t sure...”

Matthew caught on to what he had been thinking and flushed red. His eyes closed as he waved his hands back and forth, a habit for when he was embarrassed. He rambled on softly about the mistake but Alfred stopped him in his tracks by grabbing the other man’s hand and pulling him over to Matthew.

“Matthew, this is Arthur, the Queen of Spades,” Alfred introduced. “Arthur, Mattie.”

“Hello,” Matthew said, smiling nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Arthur nodded. “And... you as well.”

Matthew was nervous. And scared. And mildly intimidated. This man was very short and seemed quite unthreatening… but there was some sort of unseen aura that lingered around him that Matthew didn’t like. He seemed unfriendly. Almost hostile.

“Guess what Mattie?” Alfred asked, slinging an arm around his brother’s shoulders and nearly knocking his glasses off. “Oops - sorry. But guess what? I managed to bring hamburgers into fashion here,”

“Oh, Alfie,” Matthew sighed. “I suppose you didn’t recreate maple syrup, either.”

“Oh, sorry, bro. I’ll do that next.”

“I guess you’re a hero now,” Matthew said. “You’re changing the world just like you always wanted to. Even if it’s not our world.”

Alfred laughed. “I missed you,” he said. “I was worried that you’d be worried about me. Are you okay?”

Matthew shrugged. “I could be better.”

Alfred smiled sadly. “Don’t worry. We’ll go home when the war is over.”

Matthew nodded, and watched as Arthur left the room. He glanced back just once. Almost as if he was making certain that he wasn’t wanted.

 

The two months that followed were, at the same time, filled with activity and hopelessly empty.

Matthew began receiving lessons in weaponry, along with Alfred, in case he ever needed to defend himself. His main training partner and teacher was Benjamin, an omega like him. He learned how to use his natural ability to remain unnoticed while he fought. He became faster and more precise. Benjamin taught him how to fight with a variety of weapons, but the ones that stuck most were small daggers and throwing knives. He was also a fair shot with a bow. 

Alfred, in turn, worked with Benjamin’s good friend Jett. The reason for this separation was Matthew’s omega genes, which prevented him from so much as looking an alpha in the eye for more than three seconds. This frustrated Matthew to no end, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from shaking when in the presence of a particularly strong alpha. Even Alfred, his own brother to whom by all intents and purposes he was not and never would be attracted to, had some affect on his self. 

To tell the truth, it scared Matthew. Cards was different from Earth in infinite ways, and Matthew knew that the two of them would someday have to return. However, he didn’t stop making friends. He didn’t stop tightening bonds. Bonds that were going to have to be ripped apart when they did finally leave.

Francis… 

In his heart of hearts, when Matthew was alone in his room in the evenings, when he closed the door on the hustle and bustle of the day and sat down to rest, he allowed himself to think of the King.

J’ai envie de toi… 

He missed Francis dreadfully. His heart ached for him, and they had known each other all of… ten days? Give or take? Curse him for being so charming. Curse Matthew for being such a hopeless romantic. Matthew shook his head. Whenever anybody gave him so much as a second glance, he had to just go and fall in love with them, didn’t he? 

Love…

Was that what this was?

Love, after ten days…

“Francis… je… je t’aime,” Matthew whispered, into the fading twilight. He walked over to the window in his room and leaned out, trying to catch any glimpse of the sea, of what lay beyond.

“Je t’aime, Francis.”

And all of it was for nothing, Matthew then realized. Because Francis was at war with Clubs, and Ivan was terrifying and he and Alfred were going to leave in the end and it was all so heartbreaking -

“Mattie? Just came to say goodnight, you’ve been kinda quiet lately… hang on, are you crying?”

Matthew sniffed, a terrible gasp escaping his lungs. “No, I’m not crying.”

Alfred came to his side, fretting. “Oh no, Mattie, what’s wrong? Are you feeling lonely again? Am I leaving you alone too much? Is anyone bothering you? Don’t worry Mattie, I promise we’ll be out of here soon -”

But this only made it worse, and Matthew turned away from his brother. “I know. You’re fine. It’s fine. Goodnight, Alfred.”

“Is there anything you need? You’re not feeling sick, are you?”

Matthew eyed him. How his brother always managed to use all of the dumb luck that existed in the world, he would never know. Lately he had been feeling a little under the weather, but he had thought he was hiding it from Alfred perfectly well. It would pass soon, and was nothing to worry about, he was certain. There was no need for Alfred to worry. 

“I’m fine. I promise,” Matthew said softly. “I just want to sleep.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But you know where my room is, so you’d better come get me if you need anything at all, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll always be there for you, ‘cause I’m your hero, right! Sweet dreams, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite, okay Mattie? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Matthew smiled at the phrase Alfred used. It was so sweet, and it was nice to know that his brother hadn’t completely let go of his old habits. Lately it seemed as though he was growing very attached to Cards and being the King of Spades.

Matthew was certain it was nothing to worry about.

He also spent a fair amount of time with Arthur. Arthur picked up where Roderich had left off, as far as Matthew’s lessons went. The front cover of Matthew’s book was undamaged enough for Arthur to recognize the title, and so they found another copy in one of Spades’ many libraries. Arthur nearly threw Matthew’s copy away before he saved it.

Arthur’s teaching method was very different than Roderich’s, and Matthew found himself disliking it. Arthur was by the book, strict, and believed that all students should be independent learners. Matthew got nowhere by struggling through boring paragraphs of text and studying notes he could hardly remember taking. Roderich had been much more gentle and hands on. Matthew liked that about him. Even if the man could sometimes be insufferably proper and somewhat annoying. 

As a result, Matthew didn’t learn too much of anything.

One day, Matthew met another resident of Cards. A man named Carlos. The two became fast friends after Matthew realized Carlos could differentiate him from Alfred quite easily. Matthew introduced Carlos to the wonders of ice cream and hockey, and Carlos taught Matthew about what the heck his brother was doing in Cards.

Matthew began to lose track of how much time had passed when Alfred brought him up to speed on the details of the war. It was hard for him not to cry. Diamonds had basically been transformed into a prison camp by Clubs, and Ivan controlled Francis from behind the throne. Matthew coughed and sneezed a few times as he listened to the update.

He hoped Francis would be okay.


End file.
